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if all else fails, kristen stewart is my back up fc for my new character but i still imagine her as mixed or straight up black. kristen has the look for the character, and the resources,but zoe kravitz is my number one pick.

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listen i do really really wanna interact on here and my activity is only low bc school is kicking my fucking ass

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silverspxne replied to your post “it actually makes me really sad when i want to make a character, and i...”

[ shuffles in ] LEMME KNOW WHAT FC YOU WANT BC I'VE GOT YOUR BACK

[ shuffles in and responds hours later ] I'M DOING MY RESEARCH BUT YOU DA REAL MVP

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it actually makes me really sad when i want to make a character, and i want to use a poc fc but finding one is SO difficult bc of the lack of resources for them. like yeah totally, you shouldn't let a lack of resources keep you from using a certain fc but damn!

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          She isn't jealous, that she isn't. She can't be. Besides the fact that the blonde has absolutely nothing on her, she's hardly in the position to be jealous of anyone that shows interest in Holden. What does she have other than some long forgotten promise of loving him forever? Whether she likes to admit it or not, she has no business claiming any kind of stake over Holden. That doesn't mean that it doesn't make her blood boil knowing that someone else might have a chance with him. It shouldn't, but goddamn it, it does. “Well,” Celeste replies languidly, with a flip of her hair, choosing to ignore the girl altogether. “Call it female intuition, or whatever you want, but I can tell when someone has a crush. However small. She wouldn't be giving me subtly unsubtle evil eyes right now if she didn't have a crush on you.” Of course, she neglects to mention her own childish response. In fact, she's determined to wipe that moment from existence completely. She had been making an idiot of herself all night, and she didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable with her possessive jealousy over him. She's grinning now, her sudden shyness tinting her tanned cheeks a rosy color. Of course he had made her proud—what else did he expect? How could she see all this and not be proud of him? They were and would always be friends, no matter what had transpired in their relationship. She would always hold a pedestal in her heart reserved just for him. “I'm glad you still think so... highly of my opinion. I didn't think I would mean much of anything to you by now.” She tries to choose her words carefully, but she needs some kind of reassurance that he still cares. It's probably silly, but she doesn't give a damn anymore. She wants to hear him say how much she means to him. It's stupid, and it's probably selfish but she needs it.

          She doesn't even have time to register the subtle shock on his face at her expertly maneuvering herself over the top of his bar, because she's already pulling him into an embrace. Celeste could honestly stay like this forever—she finds herself more content with her face buried in his chest than she has all night. Hell, all week. After all these years, he still has that calming effect on her that he's always had and she's grateful for that, especially with everything going on. She has to physically restrain herself from lifting up onto her toes and kissing him, and the thought startles her. Still, she doesn't pull out of the embrace. The intrusion isn't at all welcome, but Celeste opens her eyes anyway, glancing over her shoulder at the blonde but not pulling away. She's aware that this situation most likely looks incredibly compromising, but she could honestly not care less. The only reason she pulls away from Holden is because he does so first. Otherwise, she probably would have stayed tangled up in his arms not giving a damn about what they looked like. She simply moves from between them, hanging back and allowing them to talk to each other about whatever business they're discussing. She assumes it has something to do with closing down the bar for the night, and her eyes move nervously between the clock and the purse she had set on top of the bar. Surely Jax had been blowing up her phone all night, trying to figure out where she was. If he cares, that is. Either way, Celeste is none the wiser, having turned off her phone when she left their shared apartment. When Holden turns back around to face her, she's leaning against the bar looking very lost in thought. “Hmm? Oh—I'm not in any rush to get home... —day off tomorrow...” She adds the last bit quickly, so as not to sound too suspicious, but she knows he's not going to let her live that one down. Especially not with the bar clearing out quicker than expected. Sooner or later he would get her to talk, and she would probably spill her guts and end up crying on his shoulder. It was simply not how she had wanted this interaction to go. “The one and only.” The brunette quips, her lips quirking upward into a small smirk. She likes the way he adds finally to the end of the statement, like he's been waiting far too long for this moment. “You look good, by the way. Older, more mature—your eyes have a wise beyond his years look to them now. You've either been reading a lot, traveling a lot, or both.” She adds smoothly, eyes analyzing every feature of his face. She wants to memorize every detail in case it's the last time she'll ever see him again.

         Already Holden had painted an unflattering image of Jax in his mind. What kind of name was that anyways, Jax. If he inwardly scoffed enough maybe he’d be distracted from the fact that Celeste was in a relationship. While he had no right to have a single opinion on the matter, when he’d envisioned this moment there wasn’t a boyfriend attached. Idealistic, yes, but it was the best coping mechanism he could come up with. Celeste appeared to be more embarrassed by her blunder than he was, maybe because he’d never stopped considering himself to be anyone but hers. She’d changed him, gave him a hope within himself that had never existed before. Holden grinned back at the sight of her smile, not that he was proud by the fact that it had been so long since they’d last seen each other, but it was impossible for him not to keep track. Each day that distanced between them only encouraged the younger boy to become someone worth Celeste. Which only pissed him off even more that she was now with some unappreciative wanker. Maybe he was getting a little carried away. Once his employee walked onward, Holden turned back to face an inquisitive look. “What?” He knows that look, reading her like an open book before she can even open her mouth to make her statement. Celeste’s gaze is following Erica hotly and there’s a quiver of a smile threatening to overpower his lips. Was that jealousy? Because it certainly sounded like jealousy and perhaps that was simply a reflex over a first love but either way he’d take it. Even though there was no way in hell that her theory on the fellow bartender was right. “Who, her? Nah, she’s just got that look about her. You know, the ‘tip me and I’ll bat my eyes at you’ kinda face.” He reasons, waving his hand around a little too illustrate his point. If Celeste was in fact right, he hadn’t picked up a single clue. Which wouldn’t be entirely surprising seeing as he was often oblivious to those sorts of things. Chuckling softly, Holden bows his head and takes her advice with a humble nod. She still knew him so well. “Fine, yes. I did this. But really, it means a lot to hear that I’ve made you proud. You have no idea.” The last bit comes out under his breath, hardly audible but still there to catch if she’s listening closely enough. He notices the shift in her features at his poor choice of word and he cringes slightly. It didn’t sound right to her either.

          “Yeah, of course. You’ve got a permanent V.I.P. pass to this –“ Cut off by the sheer shock of her sudden maneuver over the top of his bar, not expecting her to hop over like that a slightly tipsy gymnast. It was impressive, to say the very least, and it had him gaping lightly in amusement. Instinctively he reaches out towards her as she stumbles a little but his hands never meet, ghosting near her waist as she quickly recovers and god she’s so close. He can hardly register what she’s doing until they’re already pressed up against each other. Somehow, beneath the hint of booze, she still smells the same. Her familiar scent fills his senses and the warmth pours through every inch of him. It takes a moment for him to react but once the feeling of her face, pressed up against his chest, pulls the trigger his arms are encasing her. Everything else around them was like white noise and what he expected to be a brief hug quickly verged a full embrace. But he wouldn’t let go, not until she pulled away, even though his better judgment was screaming at him not to tighten his grip. A flood of memories came pouring in, the way her fingers would tread through his hair affectionately or long mornings where they’d spend tangled up in bed together. “Do you want me to close down the whole bar?” A voice interrupted them and Holden looked over Celeste to the intruder. Erica stood a few feet away, one hand on her hip and the other holding a rag indignantly. The club had practically cleared out now and the bouncers were doing work on scattering out the rest. “Yeah,” his voice came out hoarse and he had to stop to clear it, only making the whole thing a little more awkward. Not a single person in this room would understand who Celeste was to him and he had no intention on explaining it. She was sacred to him in that right. “That’d be great, thanks.” Hesitantly Holden pulled away, moment ruined by the presence of business and the reminder that it was two o’clock in the morning. “Time flies when you’re catching up, huh?” He didn’t want to keep her, especially if there was someone for her to be going home to. Which made his fucking stomach turn but his smile never falters as he leans back to get a proper look at her. “Wow, Celeste Hastings. In the flesh. Finally.” This wasn’t the end, he felt sure of that. Now that he’s seen her, Holden isn’t letting go. Even if he had to settle for simply being a friend.

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“Forget stardust—you are iron. Your blood is nothing but ferrous liquid. When you bleed, you reek of rust. It is iron that fills your heart and sits in your veins. And what is iron, really, unless it’s forged? You are iron. And you are strong.”

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          ( ... ---- !!! )

          "wow. i'd like to see your ass roll a perfect, god given spliff."

          ( —- ….. )

          ‘ … possibly the shitest spliff i’ve ever smoked. ’

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               "And what makes                 you think I'm not                 the type, missy?"

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i wanna au where it’s just teenage love and like they smoke pot in alley ways with their friends and skip school to vandalize shit and their parents and teachers try and break them up but they don’t give and fuck and they lay in bed and just look into eachothers eyes and whisper sweet nothings to eachother 

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"glad i'm not the only one who thinks boys are both the scum of the earth and a blessing at the same damn time."

❝ i know exactly what you mean. ❞

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( a curious tilt of her head )

"how what exactly? how do i kill them?? or--how do i work up the guts to do it, maybe??"

"Okay… Then I guess I’m wondering..         …How?”

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"you keep saying you love me, or you think you do, but if you  really loved me, you'd totally buy me pizza."

( so she's shamelessly using her   siren abilities to charm someone   into buying her food. so what?? )

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You deserve happiness. So I left.

Six Word Story #30 (via ponceau)